


the reason

by orphan_account



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 05:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5955061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>logaia:<br/>I’m re-reading “ The Last Olympian ” and I was shocked by a scene that I did not even remember : Percy Jackson and Will Solace in a Yahama motorcycle, running to be on time to heal Annabeth.</p><p>I wish I could see Nico’s face if he watched these both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the reason

   The effort to get Hades to join the Olympians in protecting Olympus was, it seemed to Nico, going nowhere.

   To a point he could understand where his father was coming from. He understood not being accepted, the feeling that home was always something you had to make on your own. He also understood that a lot of other people were going to lose their homes if Hades’ mind remained unchanged.

   “They can’t do it without you, father.” Nico said, his voice softer than his previous yelling. Yelling didn’t effect Hades, he simply matched Nico’s volume or turned. The Olympians had a rather strange habit of speaking with mortals either as angry gods, voice full of righteousness as though they thought they could never be wrong, or as children who were being patronized by parents.

   “Of course they can’t.” Hades held his chin higher, as though the thought of his family being slaughtered from the lack of his help was something to be proud of.

   Nico sighed, wondering for the thousandth time how he would get what currently seemed to be the most stubborn child of a god to quit moping in his throne room and get out to the mortal world to save it. He looked at the plant life with their strange metal fruits, to the streams of the underworld that ran through the room. He wondered if it would be enough.

   Hoping that his father was too busy sulking in his throne to notice, Persephone and Demeter in a distant part of the castle too busy arguing about the almighty importance of cereal / what a complete waste of time grains were. He took a piece of the fruit from the tree, kneeling by the stream.

   “O Iris, goddess of the rainbow, show me...show my father what he needs to see.”

   Nico tossed the silver fruit into the river, where it shimmered in the river’s mist before disappearing. The mist gathered properly to form a wide surface about the size of a television, and the image it showed would be right at home in a war film, save the teenage soldiers and the facts that the magic and warfare wasn’t special effects. Those were people, dying.

   Nico saw the image change, battles all over Manhattan spreading but the campers holding firm. The image stopped on a bridge as Nico heard Hades stir in his throne, perhaps leaning up properly to see the carnage unfolding.

The campers were retreating, an archer shouting something to Peryc as they went. Annabeth was nowhere in sight, the thought making Nico’s stomach coil. Percy stabbed his sword into the bridge and Nico heard his father rise from his throne but did not look away from the mist as the sword sank to its hilt in asphalt, water spraying around the edges at an impossible weight.

Hades walked silently towards his son as the image shifted, now from behind Percy as the bridge cracked in what would have been a comical fashion had Percy not still been standing on it. Kronos’ armies were swept off of their feet, the bridge crumbling beneath them as both sides scrambled to avoid the fifty foot space between the most stable bits of the bridge. Kronos smiled, strange for one who had just been beaten back in battle Nico noted, and shouted, “Until this evening, Jackson.” while offering a salute with his sword before retreating with his army.

Nico saw Hades out of the corner of his eye by his side, gazing at the wreckage that used to be the  Williamsburg Bridge, watching as Percy looked around for a camper no longer standing where his bow lay rather solemnly among the rubble.

Percy screamed, the sound guttural even through the Iris message. He looked down into the river, and Nico could feel the archer’s death from where he stood, and he assumed his father could as well as he shifted in an uncomfortable way before turning away. 

“I will...consider your points.”

Nico paid no mind to his father, almost entranced as he watched Percy answer a cell phone, his expression so full of different emotions Nico had trouble picking them apart. 

Whatever the person on the phone said was apparently not good news. Percy’s face seemed to drop, the feeling of the world being ripped out from under one’s feet in his expression before hardening into something determined, as though something that he couldn’t allow was happening and he had to stop it.

Nico watched as Percy approached the group of who he assumed were Apollo kids by the sheer count of archers, saying something before leading one away to a Yamaha FZI motorcycle and speeding off. 

The Iris message followed the two as Percy drove through the abandoned streets of New York. Nico spotted empty statue pedestals as they zipped by but paid them no heed, knowing that anything that could take Percy away from looking for the camper was serious. Nico noticed the differences between Percy and the Apollo kid, Percy unscratched thanks to the trip to the Styx in contrast to the cuts and scrapes against the face, the arms, the torso of the Apollo kid. 

The two got of the bike at a building identified as the Plaza, smaller than the surrounding buildings and older model separating it from the rest. They ran into the building, up to the top floor, pushing through half-bloods to get to the terrace where in the front drop of a beautiful sunset Annabeth Chase lay on a lounge chair covered in blankets, face pale and covered in sweat as a girl Nico didn’t recognise dabbed at her face with a cloth. 

Percy and the Apollo kid pushed through a group of Athena kids, Percy going to talk to Annabeth and the Apollo kid looking at Annabeth’s wounded arm with a look of medical expertise. Whatever he saw relieved him as he relayed the severity to Annabeth, taking a canteen of what Nico assumed to be nectar from Percy to clean out the wound. Nico noticed Annabeth’s grip on Percy’s hand tight enough to turn the skin purple, the rest of her staying miraculously still as the Apollo kid applied some sort of paste to the wound, humming something before applying fresh bandages before standing shakily. Nico recognised the signs from firsthand experience, the boy had just done some sort of magic, perhaps sent a prayer to his father. 

Nico turned as the Apollo kid started a list of medical items he needed the other campers to retrieve, the mist flickering as the worth of the silver apple reached its end.

He  _ had  _ to convince his father to fight. For Percy, for Annabeth, for that Apollo kid who raced across New York to help with a wound he didn’t even know he could heal.

He  _ had  _ to.

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This work is entirely fictional, a work of fanfiction and is in no way a representation of Rick Riordan or anyone who represents him/his publisher/the future of the series/anything legal. Rick Riordan does not, as well as anyone else in any way a part of the creation of actual Heroes of Olympus works, recognise of this work as an official representation of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians/Heroes of Olympus series.


End file.
